A Life in the Darkness
by DracoMalfoysSecretWife
Summary: - ADOPTED FROM WriterGirl1198 - Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth of Mirkwood has a sad history. Her mother died in childbirth to her, and her father blames her for the death of the Queen. He has never loved her. All she has is Legolas, her protective older brother. That is, until a certain Dwarven Company comes to the once-Greenwood, changing the life of this elleth forever... Slight AU
1. Prologue

**Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, all work in this chapter belongs to her :)**

R&R x

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original charcaters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198**

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

 ***Third Person POV***

Thranduil held tightly to his wife's hand as she struggled to bring their second child into the world.

"You can do it, Tawariell," he encouraged her. "You are almost there. You can do this."

The queen gritted her teeth at the pain as sweat rolled down her forehead.

"Once more, my lady," the midwife said soothingly. "One more push."

With a loud cry, Tawariell did as she was told. A small cry was heard, and the queen relaxed, closing her eyes.

"A daughter, your majesties," the midwife proclaimed, handing the child to Thranduil. "A beautiful baby girl."

The Elven-king took the child carefully. Tawariell opened her eyes, and upon seeing the babe, motioned her husband to let her hold her child.

"I am weakening," she whispered, gazing at her daughter. "I can feel Mandos calling me."

"No Tawariell," Thranduil said desperately. "You are strong. You must fight him!"

She smiled wanly. "No one can fight death, my heart."

Legolas, a fully grown ellon, entered the room to find his mother dying, his new-born sister in his mother's arms. He drew nearer to the bed to hear her softly spoken words.

"Her name... is Cuilwen," Tawariell said, struggling to speak. Her eyes fell on Thranduil, beseeching him. "Promise me, husband. Her name is Cuilwen."

Thranduil nodded, tears falling from his eyes. "I swear, my heart." With that, the Queen of Eryn Lasgalen drew her last breath and departed for the Halls of Waiting, the domain of the Lord Mandos.

Thranduil sat unmoving, devestated by his grief. Upon seeing this, the young prince realized that he would have to take charge, at least for the moment. He took the babe from the arms of their dead mother and held her close to him.

"Cuilwen," he said. "A life for a life." The prince ordered that his mother's body be prepared for burial. He handed his sister to the midwife, telling her to make certain she was fed and cared for while he tended his father.

* * *

The young princess was very beautiful, but her father could not see it. All he saw was the child who took the life of her mother, his beloved wife. He did not hate her, but could not love her either.

He commanded that, though Cuilwen was her primary name, her secondary name was to be Morwen, and everyone would address her as such.

* * *

The years passed, and Cuilwen grew to be a beautiful young elleth, but also a warrior. She was as deadly as her brother. If it was not for Legolas, she would have had no one. She was only respected in the palace for her rank as princess.

Legolas took to calling his sister Narylfiel, which meant 'Fire brand', though he often shortened it to Nary. He said that her fiery hair matched her spirit, which burned brighter than that of the bravest warrior.

And thus it was that in the year 2941, 2700 years after Cuilwen's birth, her destiny finally caught up with her.

* * *

 **ellon** \- male Elf (singular form)

 **elleth** \- female Elf (singular form)


	2. Chapter One

**Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, all work in this chapter belongs to her :)**

R&R x

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original characters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 ***Cuilwen's POV***

I ran through the halls of the palace, darting around those who stood in my way. Being as short as a Dwarf with the grace of an Elf definitely has its advantages. My brother always said that I looked exactly like our mother. That is one reason Ada cannot stand to look upon me.

At any rate, Legolas was taking a patrol out, and I had no desire to be left behind in the caverns. That is why I was running, quiver and knives strapped to my back, my bow in my hand, strung and ready for battle. Soon I came in sight of my brother and his men.

"Legolas!" I called to him. He turned to face me, a grim look on his face.

"No, Nary," he said before I could even ask. "Not today. Today you must remain here, in safety."

"Safety?" I said derisively. "There is no safety here, not for me. Soon there will not be a haven for anyone if evil is not kept in check. You need me for this," I pleaded with him silently, begging him to agree. He appeared to consider for a moment, and hope flared in my chest. Then he shook his head decisively, and the small flame was extinguished as quickly as it had begun.

"No, Nary," he said. "I love you too much to risk your life against the spiders," He embraced me swiftly and kissed my forehead. After a moment, he released me, striding silently back to his men.

I watched them march silently out of the caverns, the magic Front Gate sealing after them.

About an hour later, I heard the Front Gate being opened once again. I had changed clothes since my brother's departure, in order to look like a respectable lady. It was a sheer, flowing, pale green overpiece, under which I wore a simple shift of white silk. My hair was braided back from my face in a simple style.

I had no tiara, no circlet to signify my royal status. I had no jewelry, save one piece only. It was a necklace that my mother had once worn, and that Legolas had saved for me. It was in the shape of a small flower, the chain and setting made of mithril. The petals were made from small pieces of iridescent opal. The center was a small, perfectly cut emerald, and in between each of the petals was another tiny emerald.

When I heard the gate open, I picked up my skirts and ran to the throne room. Just before I got there, I slowed down, smoothed my skirts, and entered gracefully. With the lack of jewelry, I was able to blend into the crowd which was gathering. I made my way to the front, and was able to see everything that occurred.

My brother stood beside our father's throne. His men stood before the dais, weapons at the ready. I looked closer and saw that they were surrounding a group of thirteen Dwarves.

The Dwarves were of all shapes and sizes. Most looked rather frightening, while one looked rather young. There were three who looked similar, and were rather handsome. One of those three, the tallest of all the thirteen, had a commanding air about him. I guessed him to be the leader.

"What business brings you and your folk to my realm?" Ada asked sternly, gazing solemnly upon the company.

"We came to beg," the tallest responded. "Because we were starving."

"What were you doing in Eryn Lasgalen?" Ada tried again.

"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving."

"But what brought you into the forest in the first place?" Ada asked him angrily.

At that, the Dwarf shut his mouth and would not say another word. His kin followed his example.

"Very well," Ada said. "Take them to the dungeons, separate cell blocks, until they feel inclined to tell the truth, even if they wait a hundred years."

With that, they were taken away. The leader and the two young ones who resembled him fought the guards, reaching for each other and shouting each other's names. I realized that they must be related. Perhaps the two younger were the sons of the leader. The others struggled as well, all reaching and calling for someone.

I must admit, however, that something about the leader drew and captured my attention. He noticed me watching him. Though he seemed too proud to beg, his eyes pleaded with me to act, to do something, anything.

A lump grew in my throat, and I lowered my head in shame as tears appeared in my eyes. My father was so wrong to do this, but I was powerless to stop him.

At length, all the Dwarves were taken away and the crowd dispersed, leaving only Legolas, Ada, and myself.

"You may leave us, Morwen," our father said coldly.

I hesitated for a moment, glancing at my brother. He looked at me sadly, and I knew he could see the pain Ada's detachment caused me.

When no move was made from either of them, I bowed my head so as not to show my grief.

"Yes, Father," I whispered, lifting my eyes to gaze at him for a moment. I let them drop again and turning, left the throne room.

I wandered aimlessly, not caring where my feet took me. At times, I wondered what my purpose was. I wondered why I had not just died with my mother. All I had was Legolas, and he would never have known to miss me.

I soon found myself in the lowest dungeons of the palace, where I sensed a life form in one of the cells. I could tell it was one of the Dwarves and, growing curious, I moved closer to the door. As I drew nearer, I recognized the leader of the group, although he had been stripped of all but his pants and simple tunic.

"Have you been given any food yet?" I asked him softly.

He looked at me for a moment, disdain in his eyes. It cut at my already bleeding heart, but I ignored it, deciding to persevere. After a short while, he shook his head. "No," he said tersely. "I have not."

I pursed my lips, considering my options. Finally I made up my mind and said, "I will return soon."

I turned and left, heading to the kitchens where I came upon the butler, Galion. He was an amiable fellow, seemingly always cheerful. I requested that he make a small but hearty meal. He complied without question, and I was soon on my way back to the leader's cell.

"Here," I said when I arrived, and had pushed the food through a wide slot in the bars on the door. "I know it is not much, but it is all I could manage."

"My thanks," he said grudgingly, giving me a questioning look. "But why did you help me? What do you want in return?"

"I want nothing," I said, looking at the ground. I remembered my father's indifference to me, and shook my head. "My father is wrong to have ordered this."

He froze in the middle of eating, and looked at me sharply. "Your father?"

I nodded. "My name is Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, but he has ordered everyone to call me Morwen."

He looked puzzled. "Why would he want to call you Dark over Life?"

I looked at him in amazement. "You speak Sindarin!"

He nodded. "It was one of the things I was taught as a lad," he said calmly. "Before Erebor fell to the Dragon."

He was watching me closely, and I realized he expected a reaction. I smiled sadly.

"Well do I remember the tales of the glory of the Lonely Mountain," my gaze becoming distant. "My brother visited those halls with our father when the Arkenstone was discovered. Legolas said he had never seen such a jewel."

"It was a marvel indeed," he said. "A sign that the King's right to rule was divine." His thoughts seemed to wander before he looked at me again.

"You did not accompany them," he said. "I would remember an Elf with hair the color of flame in the midst of the heads of pale gold."

I looked at him, my gaze sober. "I have never seen the world beyond the forest. I know of it all, but..." I trailed off, shrugging slightly.

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. "I just want to say this," I continued, my voice softening. "I wish that my father would have helped your people after Erebor was taken. If I could have convinced my father otherwise, I would have. I know my brother tried, but our father's heart cannot be touched."

"What do you mean?" he asked me. I looked down at the floor, trying to hide the pain in my eyes.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching guards. I looked into the cell, and saw that he had finished eating.

"Give me the plate and cup," I whispered frantically. He did as I said, and I hurriedly left.

I returned the dishes to the kitchen and went to my room, as it was growing late. I bathed myself and dressed for bed. Only when I was lying in my bed encased by the darkness did I realize that I never asked the Dwarf his name.

* * *

 **Ada** \- Father


	3. Chapter Two

**Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, all work in this chapter belongs to her :)**

R&R x

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original characters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 ***Thorin's POV***

It had been about three days since Thranduil's daughter had come to me with food on the day of our capture. Three days, and still I wondered about her. She did not seem to be like her father. There was something there, something that I was missing. It was just beyond my reach, but I could not grasp it.

Something about the girl had drawn me to her, since I had first caught her looking at me when the Company was taken before the Elven-king. Her very name intrigued me: Cuilwen Morwen, Dark Life. I wondered what had happened for her to receive such a contradictory name.

She looked nothing like the Wood Elves. Her flaming hair and steel grey eyes stood out in sharp contrast to the blonde haired, blue-eyed Elves. Also, there was her height. Though she appeared to move as gracefully and fluidly as all Elves, she was just as short as I am.

Cuilwen. Her very name entranced me, throwing my heart and mind into complete turmoil. My heart wanted to know her better, to know everything there was to know about her. But my mind fought hard against my heart. My mind brought up all the hatred I had ever felt towards the Elves. It brought up all the reasons I had to hate Thranduil. And when I remembered that he was her father, I growled angrily, jumping up to pace the small cell the Elven-king had put me in as I muttered Khuzdul curses under my breath.

Yet another reason to hate Thranduil, I thought grimly. Suddenly, I felt a presence outside my cell door. Someone else was down here. I turned to face the iron bars and saw a short form, lithe and graceful.

"Hello," Cuilwen said to me softly.

* * *

 ***Cuilwen's POV***

I walked through the tunnels, trying to avoid as many guards as I could. Especially Legolas; he would know in a moment that I was up to something.

Fortunately, my brother was nowhere to be found as I made my way to the cell of the Dwarves' leader. I used my agility and light weight to my advantage, working my way through the numerous dimly-lit passageways.

Finally, I reached the lowest dungeons and came to a halt in front of the Dwarf's cell. He was pacing the floor angrily, muttering under his breath in Khuzdul. From the way he was glaring at the walls, I assumed he was cursing.

I considered him for a moment. He was very handsome, and his obvious fury did nothing to detract from that. In fact, if it changed anything at all, our made him look even more attractive.

His black hair with only a few streaks of grey, his powerful, strongly muscled body, and his eyes, his beautiful sorrowful deep blue eyes… I realized my thoughts and hurriedly brought them to a screeching halt.

Just then he stiffened, turning to face the bars where I was standing.

"Hello," I said softly.

He looked at me in confusion for a moment, then anger overtook his face once more, "Why have you come?" he demanded.

I hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ground.

"As I said before, my father is wrong to do this," I said, my voice barely a whisper. I looked up as my confidence grew slightly. "My brother and I both know it, but Adar would listen only to Legolas. And about this," I shook my head. "My brother has too much to lose to try to persuade our father. Centuries worth of anger and grudges fester in his heart, and the only person who could even hope to heal him is now gone."

We were both silent for a moment, and I then remembered the question which had haunted me for the past three days.

"If it is not too forward of me, May I ask your name?" I said to him.

Instantly his defenses see up, and he gazed at me in suspicion. I felt yet another gash open on my scarred heart and felt the blood flow, filling my eyes with hurt. Another feeling fell over me:despair. It seemed that I would ever be regarded with suspicion and hatred. I lowered my head and turned away, tears filling my eyes.

I walked toward the exit, until I was halted by his deep voice.

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain," he said.

I turned to look at him, surprised that he had responded to me. He had moved from the back of the cell, now clamping the bars with his hands. His eyes looked at me briefly, and I saw how vulnerable he felt in that moment, with his name in my possession.

I smiled slightly, turning back to him. My eyes, I knew, still betrayed the pain I felt at his earlier reticence, though I could hardly blame him for not trusting an Elf, especially a child of Thranduil.

"Please," he said, his voice pleading. "Please stay. I can't bear being alone down here..."

I sat on a short stool by his cell door. "I am used to solitude. Legolas is the only one who cares what becomes of me."

Thorin's face remained neutral, but his eyes showed confusion, as did his voice when he spoke.

"But surely your father and mother care, and love you as well," he said, his voice puzzled.

I shook my head. "My mother died in childbirth to me. As a result, my father cannot stand the sight of me.

Naneth's last words were to beg Adar to name me Cuilwen. He did as she asked, but added Morwen to it, and instructed all of his subjects to address me as such. Legolas is the only one who does not. He calls me Narylfiel, meaning 'Fire brand,' though he usually shortens it to Nary."

Something flickered in Thorin's eyes, and I realized that it was a spark of compassion. He reached his hands through the bars, gently encasing mine.

"Forgive my earlier harsh words," he said, his sapphire blue eyes piercing mine like daggers. "I was too hard on you, judging you by your race before I knew anything about you."

I nodded, accepting his apology. "There was no harm done. It is in the past now."

He seemed relieved to hear that, and I smiled slightly at him. There was something nagging at me, and my brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly it came to me, and I gasped at the realization, though I kept my voice down.

"You are Thorin Oakenshield," I whispered in awe. "King Under the Mountain, heir to the throne of Erebor!" I realized then where he was bound, and why my father might not want him to get there. "That is your quest. You are going to reclaim Erebor!"

He nodded, and I paled slightly. "You have to get out of here," I muttered to myself. "Erebor must be retaken, and Smaug destroyed."

"You support our quest?" Thorin said, looking at me with an incredulous expression on his face.

I nodded. "Aye, I do. You must succeed; the fate of Middle Earth rests on this," I said, my mind churning.

He grasped my wrist through the bars and said, "I will not let you risk yourself just to free us."

I laughed mirthlessly. "What more can my father do to me? Already I do not have his love, but he would never harm me; he loved Naneth too much. The worst he could do would be to banish me, and I would gladly take that if it meant saving Middle Earth." I gently freed my hand from his and backed away from the cell slowly. "I will find a way out for you, Thorin Oakenshield," I said to him. "I swear it on my life."

With that I turned and went back to the upper levels. On the way up one of the stairs, I tripped over something in the floor. I fell with a small yelp, which was echoed in another voice. I realized that I must have tripped over a person, though I was paying attention and did not see anyone. I reached down and grasped the person who I had tripped over. But when I looked, there was no one there.

"Whoever you are," I said in a low warning voice. "Make yourself visible this instant."

I heard a sigh, and the person I was holding moved slightly, then did as I bade him. He was a short being, and slightly chubby. His curly blonde hair was badly mussed, and he had traces of spider web clinging to him.

"Who are you?" I said in curiosity, my voice hushed.

He sighed and said, "My name is Bilbo Baggins. I am a hobbit of the Shire."

"Let me guess," I said. "The Company of Thorin Oakenshield is thirteen Dwarves plus one hobbit, yes?"

He nodded, a startled expression on his face.

"You are trying to find a way to help them?" I guessed, and he nodded once more. "I want to help you get them out."

He looked very confused. "Why? You're an Elf. I thought your people hated each other."

"The Dwarves have hated my father and our people since the fall of Erebor when he turned away from their suffering," I answered him.

"Your father?"

"I am Cuilwen Thranduileth," I answered him, dropping the surname my father had given me. "Thranduil is my father."

He gasped and said, "Then shouldn't you be glad to see them imprisoned."

"I am not my father," I told him. "And what my father is doing is wrong. I am looking for a way to break

Thorin and the rest of your Company out of here. Can I count on your help?"

He nodded, speechless, and I nodded at him in return. "Good. Now, make yourself invisible and follow me.

The room I go to will be where you can find me, and if I am not there, you can wait there for me."

He nodded and put something on his finger, disappearing as soon as he did that. I headed towards my room and went in, closing my door behind me. I tried to go to sleep but was kept awake all night trying to think of a way to free Thorin and his Company. I could not fail him - I could not.


	4. Chapter Three

**Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, all work in this chapter belongs to her :)**

R&R x

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original characters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198**

* * *

The next day, I went to the dungeons again. I went immediately to Thorin's cell, ready to tell him about my meeting with Bilbo, but he was not there. I began to panic, until I made myself slow down and think rationally. Adar must have had him brought to the throne room for another interrogation. I left the dungeons and took off for the main room of the palace. I got there just in time to see guards dragging Thorin away from my father.

"A hundred years is but a blink in the eye of an Elf," Adar said to Thorin as he was taken away. The doors closed behind him, and his gaze turned to me. "What do you want, Morwen?" he said to me coldly.

Tears filled my eyes, and I stepped forward. "Why do you hate me, Ada? What have I ever done to deserve this? All I ever wanted was your love, to know that someone besides Legolas cares about me. Why do you call me Morwen when Naneth asked for me to be Cuilwen? Why do you hate me so?"

He stepped forward, his eyes blazing. "Your birth took Tawariell's life. I blame you for that, and I always will. You are no child of mine. Only darkness can come from you, for your birth was cursed."

A choked sob rose in my throat, but I forced it back. "Naneth would never forgive you if she knew your words," I said, turning and fleeing from him.

I ran blindly, not caring where my feet took me, until I stumbled and fell to the ground. I then realized that I was in the dungeons again, close to Thorin's cell. I wiped my eyes, trying to dry my tears as I rose and kept walking to his cell. I reached the cell, and this time he was in there. When he saw me, he rose from his cot immediately and came to the bars.

"Are you alright?" he said, his eyes and voice concerned.

I shook my head, stifling a sob. "He hates me," I said, my voice breaking. "I always suspected, but now I know."

I sank to the ground, tears rolling down my face. Thorin reached through the bars, trying to comfort me as best he could.

"If he does not love you," Thorin said to me. "Then he is not worthy of you. He does not deserve the tears you shed over him."

"In my heart I know that, but my head is not so obliging," I said as I laughed slightly, self-deprecating.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching his hand to my face and wiping tears off my face. "Dry those tears. He does not deserve the tears of such a beautiful maiden."

I raised my head and looked at him. "Why do you call me beautiful?" I asked him, puzzled. "I am no beauty. Not like Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of our people. Not like her grandmother, Galadriel, Lady of Light." I looked down at the ground and took a deep shuddering breath. I felt something softly brush my chin, lifting my face, and I found that Thorin was the cause.

"You are beautiful," he said in determination. "Inside and out. You are willing to brave the wrath of your father to help his enemy, simply because you believe him to be wrong. We Dwarves consider that kind of courage true beauty."

I smiled at him as he wiped the tears away from my eyes. "Now, have you found anything?" he asked me gently.

I nodded, sobering quickly. "I met with your hobbit last night as I was leaving your cell," I told him. "We are working on a way out."

He appeared to be deep in thought, and muttered something to himself, though I was not sure I was supposed to hear it. "We must reach the Mountain by Durin's Day."

"How far away is that?" I asked him. He looked at me appraisingly.

"Durin's Day is the day of the Dwarves' New Year," he told me. "When the last sun of autumn and the first moon of winter are in the sky together."

I calculated in my head quickly then looked at him in alarm. "That does not give us much time." I rose from the floor where I had been seated. "I must find Bilbo."

I turned to leave, only to hear Thorin call after me. "Cuilwen!" I turned and looked at him, question in my eyes. "Be careful," he said. "You may believe that Thranduil will honor your mother's memory, but I do not trust him. Please, watch your steps."

"I will, Thorin," I told him. "I will." I turned and swiftly left the dungeons. I made my way towards my rooms, where I found my brother standing, ready to knock on the doors.

"Legolas!" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He turned when he heard me say his name, and quickly grasped my arms, his blue eyes urgent as he tugged me in my room. He looked down the corridor quickly then closed the door, turning to look at me. By now I was afraid, unsure what was happening.

"Toron," I said, my voice beginning to shake slightly. "What is wrong?"

"You must leave, Nary," he said. There was an emotion in his eyes which I had never seen in him before: sheer panic and fear. "The Master of Laketown has asked Adar for you in exchange for a permanent alliance between Mirkwood and Esgaroth, and Adar has agreed! The Master is a cruel man, and he would not hesitate to abuse you; your spirit is too fiery for him to tame to his liking." He lifted his shaking hand to my face, smoothing my hair. "Narylfiel, he must not find you," he said, his eyes deadly serious.

I felt surprisingly calm, for I knew that I had to leave anyway. "What must I do?" I asked him.

In response, he turned me around and began taking all the braids out of my hair, the braids signifying that I was the Princess of Mirkwood. "You will be easily recognized by the color of your hair," he said. "Try to keep it covered at all times. Keep Naneth's necklace hidden, and your hair over your ears."

I nodded, and finally my hair was free for the first time in many years, though my brother quickly bound it in a single braid.

"Get changed into traveling clothes," he instructed. "I will return with your weapons."

"Legolas, no!" I cried quietly. He turned and looked at me in question as I debated internally.

"Nary, we have no time!" he said, and I made up my mind.

"I have a way out of the fortress," I told him. "But I must be the one to retrieve my weapons from the armory. Please Toron," I said when I saw him begin to question me. "Do not ask me questions; I cannot answer you. Just know if I never see you again that I love you."

His eyes were pained, but he gave me a curt nod. "Change quickly," he said. "I will pack things you may need."

I turned from him and grabbed a tunic, a pair of pants, and a cloak, hurrying behind the screen in my room. I could hear Legolas on the other side as I changed, hurrying around the room quietly. I finished quickly and came into the room, only to find Legolas finished completely.

"Go now," I told him. "We should not be seen together.

Tears came into his eyes and he embraced me tightly. "May the Valar keep you," he whispered against my hair. Pulling back, he kissed me gently on the forehead. He released me and left my room, leaving the door open part-way. As soon as I could no longer hear his footsteps, I slipped out of my room, closing the door completely, and made my way to the armory.

On my way there, I heard someone call me softly. "Lady Cuilwen!" I turned my head but saw nothing and no one. I quickly realized that it must be Bilbo.

"Bilbo, is that you?" I asked in a whisper.

He appeared in front of me, and I jumped slightly. Calming myself, I asked him urgently, "Have you found a way out for them yet?"

He nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. "The barrels and the trap door into the river down below."

I nodded at him. "The feast of Mereth-en-Gilith begins shortly. I am on my way to the armory to retrieve my weapons, and that is most likely where the Company's things are. I will get all that I can carry. You have them ready in the cellar, and I will meet you there." I sighed and said, "Tell Thorin that he may have an addition to his escape party, though if the Company objects, he will not be troubled for long."

Bilbo looked puzzled, but he nodded anyway. "Alright, but be careful."

I nodded, and he vanished. I turned and went to the armory, which thankfully was unguarded. I spoke the secret, magic password (Edro!) and the door swung open silently.

I entered and looked around at everything, realizing that the Dwarves' things were actually very easy to spot. The design was very distinct compared to all the Elvish weapons, and their packs were stowed in there as well. I took all the weapons and fastened them to myself in some way. My gaze then fell on a sword that was obviously of Elvish design, though I knew I had never seen it in here before. I picked it up and unsheathed it. The blade read, "Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver." I knew the stories of this sword, just as I knew it had been lost since the fall of Gondolin in the First Age, along with Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the king of Gondolin. I slung it about myself as well, then grabbed as many of the packs as I could. Checking to make certain I had not missed anything, I left the armory, closing and locking the door behind me.

I stealthily made my way to the cellars, avoiding the few guards which were actually sober and alert. As I drew nearer, I could hear the quiet racket the Dwarves made as Bilbo tried to quiet them.

"Thorin," I heard Bilbo said. "I was told to tell you that we might have to have a tag-a-long in our escape, but that if it was trouble, they would depart after the escape."

I knew even without being in the room that Thorin was looking at the hobbit sharply. "What exactly did she say?" he asked sternly.

I could hear the other Dwarves muttering and shifting uncomfortably, and I heard one ask, "What are we waiting for? Why haven't we already left, if Bilbo's got us a way out?"

"And who is this 'she'?" another said.

"'She' is the only reason we were able to escape our cells," Thorin retorted, anger in his voice. "And we are waiting for her now." There was a pause, then the Dwarf-King said, "Again, what were her words?"

I chose to enter at that moment, struggling with the door since my arms were full. "My words, Thorin, were that I am in need of an escape route if I want to avoid my father selling my to the disgusting, cruel man who asked for me as his personal play-thing."

I dumped the packs onto the floor in front of the Company and began to hand out weapons. The massive twin axes as well as a huge, two-handed sword went to a partially bald, mostly tattooed Dwarf who stood close to Thorin, looking at me with loathing. The bow and arrows went to the young, dark-haired Dwarf who was one of the two the leader had been trying to reach when they were all captured. Finally all the packs were taken and the weapons claimed, except for Orcrist.

"Whose is this?" I asked, slinging it off my back. Thorin stepped forward silently, and I held it out towards him in respect. "I should have known. A kingly weapon for a noble Dwarf." I bowed as he took it from my hands. "May it serve you well."

He took it from me with a grateful nod, and the tall, half bald Dwarf scowled at me.

"Why would an Elf," he spat the word with contempt. "Lower herself to help Dwarves?"

I looked at him silently for a moment. "Thranduil was wrong to imprison you," I said quietly, and I saw Thorin look at me in question, since I had not referred to the Elven-king as my father. I suppose he wasn't in a way, for he had never loved me as his daughter. "I know I cannot right all his wrongs, but I can try, starting here. If we are to escape before the guards notice your absence, then we must hurry." I looked at Thorin, who was staring at me with an undefined expression in his eyes, and raised my eyebrows in question. "Thorin?"

He cleared his throat and looked away from me. "Everyone in the barrels."

* * *

Toron- Brother

Edro- Open


	5. Chapter Four

Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, but this is where my work begins :D

R&R x

Disclaimer- I don't own anything. Anything you recognize from The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien. The original characters- Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, her mother Queen Tawariell, and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198.

 _ **Sorry for the delay in updates, with school starting again life has been a little hectic.**_

 **Beta'd by WriterGirl1198 :)**

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Chapter 4

*Cuilwen's POV*

The company of Dwarves followed Thorin's orders and began to walk down toward the stacked barrels, though even the bold half-bald one was still hesitant. I climbed into the very top barrel, deciding to take pity on the larger Dwarves since my frame was slim and more lithe.

The half-bald one turned back and said to Bilbo, "Are you mad? They'll find us!"

"No, no, no, no, they won't, I promise you. Please, please, you must trust me," Bilbo pleaded with him. The halfling turned back to the others, who promptly began to whisper rather loudly. He looked to Thorin and then to me, his eyes pleading for assistance. Before I could say anything, Thorin quickly intervened.

"Do as he says."

The Dwarves were quick to obey their leader, clambering noisily into the barrels as Bilbo counted, making sure everyone had a barrel. I sucked in a deep breath as I heard guards nearing the wine cellar.

"Hush you lot! The guards are nearing," I hissed quietly. I looked to Bilbo who simply nodded at me.

Bofur stuck out his head from the barrel under mine and asked, "What do we do now?"

Thorin stuck his head out of his barrel on the other side of Bofur. "Hold your breath," he said as I looked into his steeled-blue gaze.

"Hold my breath? What do you mean, 'hold my breath?'"

Just then Bilbo used the entire weight of his body to pull down the heavy lever, tilting the floor and sending the barrels rolling. The Dwarves howled in uneasiness at the sudden change in their equilibrium. I bounced around as the barrels fell, my body feeling too small in the large space. My head hit the wooden rim as our barrels plunged into the water, our heads briefly going underwater before we quickly resurfaced. I could see all the Dwarves, but Bilbo was not to be found. My barrel with its light load was easily pulled along by the swift current, but a strong, muscled arm grabbed my barrel, stopping me from floating away. I followed the arm to its body and found Thorin to be smirking at me. The trap door opened once again depositing the sputtering Hobbit into the river, where he was rescued by Nori.

"Well done, Master Baggins," Thorin complimented him with a small, genuine smile. I had to hold in a chuckle as the shivering Hobbit grunted, brushing off Thorin's praise as he tried to get a better hold on Nori's keg. Thorin used my barrel to turn his around, and the half-bald Dwarf spun my own barrel the right way, helping me move along with the current. "Move! Come on, let's go!"

We all began trying to paddle, our armor and weapons making it difficult to lean further over the rims and drag ourselves along. I looked up, my attention turning to the paths on the banks above the river as I heard the shouts of my people sounding the alarm for escaped prisoners. Thorin noticed this as well, and his desperation to escape escalated. We rounded the last curve in the river, and I knew what was ahead of us.

"Hold on!" I shouted back to the Company, trying to give them some warning.

The current soon became more violent, and the water turned white with foam as we entered the rapids. The first waterfall tossed us down into the river that flowed into the lake of Esgaroth. My barrel spun wildly with the churning river, and instead of seeing Thorin ahead of me, his soaked shirt clinging to his sculpted back, I saw Nori's barrel headed towards mine, turning occasionally to show poor distressed Bilbo still clinging on for dear life.

A horn sounded, warning the guards ahead to shut the gate. The border guards were calling out to each other until finally a cloaked and helmeted guard pulled the lever, shutting the gate before our eyes.

"No!" Thorin cried angrily, his barrel knocking against the closed gate under the bridge.

Our barrels were all piling up against the gate when I heard the sound of swords being drawn, quickly followed by the release of an arrow from a non-Elvish bow and a pained grunt from above. The lifeless body of an Elven guard fell from the gate into the river between the last few Dwarves and was followed by the monstrous roar of an Orc. In that moment I thanked the Valar for my foresight in obtaining the Company's weapons. I heard the obvious sounds of a fight from above us, given away by the distinct clash of metal on metal. The younger brunet Dwarf reached down into his barrel and pulled out a finely-carved bow and a quiver of arrows, the only ones I had liberated from the armory. Bodies of both Elves and Orcs fell into the river from above us, and before I even knew what I was doing I had paddled my way between the Dwarves towards the river bank, pulling my hunting knives from their sheaths at my side and quickly entering the fray. I knew that unless I got that gate open, all the Dwarves would be slaughtered; I could not allow that to happen.

"CUILWEN!"

My attention was grabbed by Thorin desperately shouting my name. I turned quickly, reacting to his cry, and was quickly met with the swinging blade of an Orc whose face was disfigured beyond all hope of repair. Deftly defending my weaknesses, I knew that I had to end this quickly and with a swift jab impaled the Orc-filth on one of my knives. The large body fell, clearing my path to the lever, and without a second thought I leapt up the stairs towards the protruding metal, beheading an Orc who dared cross my path.

I was halted by a sharp pain in my right thigh, and I looked down to see the young blond Dwarf looking up at me. He had skewered an Orc who would have ambushed me from behind. His eyes fell from my face to my leg, and I followed his gaze to see the long black-feathered arrow sticking out of my thigh. In that moment I felt all the pain the arrow caused overcoming the adrenaline caused by the battle. I tried to push past the pain to reach the lever, but my leg buckled, giving out on me before I could reach my goal. I gasped as I dragged my aching body towards the lever, using the last of my strength to lunge upwards and catch it, pulling it down and opening the gate.

I rolled over the edge of the wall, expecting to feel my body hit the cold water, but I instead felt the arrow catch and snap as I fell into a barrel. I barely managed to hold in a scream at the unexpected pain as an arm pulled me to rest against a solid chest. I turned my head to see that I was sharing a barrel with the blond Dwarf who saved me earlier. The barrels dropped down another waterfall, the turbulence partially drowning out the noise of the Orcs. The barrel once again filled with water before bobbing back to the surface. I could see most of the Dwarves ahead of us. I could also see that the Orcs running along the bank would not so easily give up their prey.

The rapids picked up with the steepening of the river bed, and the arrows and spears were missing us by mere millimeters. The Orcs continued trying to cut us off, but with my bow lost in my barrel and only one of the Dwarves being an archer, we couldn't cut down any Orcs unless they were at a closer range.

Out of the corner of my eye I suddenly saw pale blond hair, and I turned in surprise to see my brother shooting down the Orcs along the river-side. With him were more Elven guards from the palace fighting the Orcs blade against blade. Thorin pinned an Orc to an overhanging tree branch with an Orcish blade taken from one of his kills. Grabbing the now-deceased Orc's falling weapon, he tossed it down the line of Dwarves before the Dwarf whose barrel I shared leaned over me, catching the pole and using it to sweep an Orc off its feet.

The Dwarves ahead of me cut another tree branch overhanging the river, and the wood supporting several Orcs falling into the water. I heard a loud thud and was shocked to see a barrel containing one of the Dwarves rolling along the bank, wiping out many Orcs that got in his way.

Turning to look ahead once more, I tried to make myself useful by using my knives to cut down any Orcs that got too close to us. I could see Legolas up ahead standing atop the heads of two Dwarves, shooting at the Orcs from the centre of the river. He then proceeded to jump from one Dwarrow head to the next as if they were stepping stones in a gentle stream. He leapt to the river bank, countering an Orc's sword with his own twin knives. My eyes widened in fear as a large Orc came up behind him, raising his blade against my brother.

"TORON!" I screamed loudly, trying to gain his attention.

Before he could react the Orc was dead by an Orcish blade. I turned towards the Company, my Elf eyes seeking out my brother's savior. I locked my gaze with Thorin's, trying from the depths of my heart to convey my thanks.

We rounded another bend in the river, and I turned back to see Legolas standing at the top of the rocky bank. His eyes met mine one final time as we silently bade each other farewell. The Orcs continued after us, but the swift waters of the river favored us for once, taking the Dwarves and myself beyond their reach.

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Translations -

 _ **Toron**_ _(Elvish) -_ Brother


	6. Chapter Five

**Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, BUT this is where my work begins :D**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original characters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 ***Cuilwen's POV**

The current eventually slowed and they had no other choice but to retreat back to the land. "Make for the shore!" Thorin yelled out, the company begrudgingly paddling with what energy the still retained. The barrel I shared caught up with the others swiftly due to the fact that there was two of us paddling in comparison to everyone else's one. Upon arriving at the edge I came to the conclusion that he would need to get out first before I could, and apparently he had the same thought, squeezing his much larger body through what little space remained, he tipped the barrel slightly to get out.

He stood before turning and looking down at me, bending down to drag the barrel onto the shore with a grunt. I gingerly climbed out of the wine keg, hissing in pain. I turned to offer my thanks to the dwarf but he had left. I pulled myself up onto some of the rocks, bracing myself for the sight of my leg.

My leggings were stained dark with blood, and I pulled a dagger from my side to cut the material surrounding the remaining shaft of the arrow. Biting my lip I tenderly pulled away the clothing that was beginning to stick to my skin. I looked up, finding the dwarves were further along shore going through their packs and treating their own wounds. I had to find my one, I knew Legolas would have packed some dressings for injuries.

The heavy sound of a pack hitting the ground next to me halted me in my struggle to stand, and looking up I saw the dwarf sit down.

"I'll get Oin to tend to that," Thorin assured, turning round to summon the healer.

The elder dwarf, of which Cuilwen could now call Oin, came over without a fuss, his small distaste for elves was overcome by the need to take care of the wounded. As he approached he could clearly make out the protruding arrow.

One of the definite younger ones was sitting closer to the river, his feet dipped into the water. He looked back as a shadow cast over the sun that was drying out his back, only to see the dark looming form of a bowman above.

The other members of the company picked up on the sudden change of mood and the bald dwarf was quick to come to the defence of the unprepared dwarf, albeit unprepared himself, armed only with a decent sized branch. Turning my head I could see the advantage this bowman had on the company and was ready to intervene with the small dagger I had tucked into my tunic, but that idea was quite literally shot down as the figure released his arrow into the branch the dwarf was holding, quickly notching another to shoot the rock out of another dwarf's hand.

"Try that again," the bowman began, preparing another arrow, "And you're dead."

* * *

 ***Third person POV***

Cuilwen decided to stand, deciding against sitting in hopes of proving something to the dwarves. Although she wouldn't admit it, she did takes some of the discreetly offered help from Thorin to stand, clutching his forearm before leaning on him to gain some balance.

Remembering how she was between Esgaroth and the Greenwood, Cuilwen made sure her hood covered her ears and hair.

One of the elderly dwarves, the one with the white beard stepped forward, the others all remained in a stunned silence.

"Excuse me," the dwarf approached the figure before the bowman's weapon swung towards him. "You're from Laketown, I suppose."

"Aye," The shadow replied and he lowered his bow as the dwarf raised his hands.

Cuilwen could make out the shoulder cut hair and moustache of the bowman as the overcast allowed for a little more sun to peek out.

"That barge over there, it wouldn't be up for hire would it?" The white bearded dwarf continued.

The bowman tilted his head, "And what makes you think I'd help you?"

"I bet you have some hungry mouths to feed, how many bairns?"

The bowman grasped one of the ruined barrels, loading it onto the barge, "A boy and two girls."

The old dwarf gained some confidence as the man answered more of his questions, "And your wife, I imagine she's a beauty."

The bowman's whole posture slumped at this, "Aye, she was."

The dwarf realised his mistake and was quick to try remedify it, "My apologies, I didn't me-

"Oh come on! Enough of the niceties!" The bald dwarf cut in.

"What's your hurry?" The bowman asked, clearly picking up on the tallest dwarf's desperation.

The dwarf in question simply shot another question back, "What's it to you?"

The dwarf from before seemed to have found his words, "We are travelling to see our kin in the Iron Hills.

The bowman arched an eyebrow, nodding slightly to himself and Thorin could tell he didn't believe Balin.

"I know where these barrels come from, whatever business you had with the elves clearly didn't end well. Half of the master's trade comes from the Greenwood, he would gladly see you in irons than face Thranduil's anger."

"Surely there are other ways to enter the town," Cuilwen spoke out, desperate for this to be over.

The bowman nodded, looking away from the dwarves, allowing them to board the ship. Cuilwen decided to stay close to Thorin, him being the only dwarf who she knew actually liked her, and he knew of her injury. He sat down first, allowing him to subtly lean on him to sit down herself. Cuilwen shut her eyes, attempting to block out the pain.

"How did you come by this?" Thorin questioned softly, he had been pressed to the bridge gates during the fight, and somehow she had gotten away from his side, despite his effort of keeping her close to him. He had seen her in the water, before she climbed the bank, and he almost had a heart attack when an orc came from behind, thankful that he had managed to warn her.

"I cut down a larger orc and saw there was no one on the stairs, I ran, and just before I reached the lever I was shot with an arrow, I managed to pull the lever before slipping, and fell into a barrel with the blonde dwarf over there," Cuilwen pointed out the dwarf, and Thorin looked up at his nephew.

"The arrow shaft snapped when I fell into the barrel with him."

Thorin decided to enlighten her, her constant use of 'him' and 'he' was becoming confusing considering all the dwarves were male.

"That's Bombur, Bofur and Bifur," He began pointing out the members of his company, stopping at the dwarf with an axe blade in his head to let her memorise them.

Cuilwen repeated the names in her head, committing them to memory.

"Nori, Dori and Ori," Thorin continued and seeing her nod he named the next few, "Dwalin and Balin."

"Are you listing them in any particular order?" Cuilwen broke him out of his task, before Thorin looked down at her.

"Yes, I was, the first lot are cousins, the second are brothers, as are the third. Gloin and Oin are brothers, as are Fili and Kili," Thorin introduced the next lot, and Cuilwen could now put a name to the dwarf she shared a barrel with.

"So I shared Fili's barrel, and next to him is his brother Kili?" Cuilwen asked.

"Yes, and they're also my nephews, Fili is my heir." Thorin confirmed.

"What of the hobbit?"

Thorin looked at Bilbo, "He's our burglar, Gandalf the Grey designated him after I asked for his help in finding the last member of our company, Master Bilbo Baggins, I believe."

Cuilwen looked up as Thorin had finished introducing his company and noticed the ship was heading towards rocks.

"Watch out!" Bofur warned. The bowman navigated the ship around the obstructions with no difficulty.

"Are you trying to drown us?!" Thorin yelled out.

"If I were to drown you master dwarf, I would not do it here," The bowman snarked back.

Dwalin was quick to voice his dislike of the human, but Balin cut in, "We don't have to like him, we do however, have to pay him."

"Come on lads, empty your pockets."

The grumbling of dwarves made up Cuilwen's mind, and before any of the dwarves could pull out their coins, she removed a larger sack of gold coins from her pack, tossing in front of Balin.

The dwarves silenced at the sound of the bagged coins hitting the deck, and all turned to look at Cuilwen who shrugged, "That should be enough."

The money was pocketed by the bowman before he ordered the dwarves into the barrels.

The dwarves sighed, not wanting to get back into them but did so anyway.

Thorin could hear Dwalin asking what the bowman was doing.

"Bard, his name is Bard, and _Bard_ is talking to someone," Bilbo hissed back, "And he's pointing, right at us," Bilbo continued, his voice wavering slightly.

Thorin looked up at the sky, praying to Mahal this _Bard_ hadn't outed them.

"Now they're shaking hands," Bilbo commentated.

"What?!" Thorin hissed.

"He's selling us out," Dwalin confirmed Thorin's fears.

Footsteps approached the barrels and the company silenced, before the smell of fish was apparent before each barrel was topped up with fish. The boat started moving forward and the dwarves took the opportunity to voice their dislike of their predicament.

"Quiet!" Bard hissed, kicking the nearest barrel, "We're approaching the toll gate," He finished softly.

"Halt! Goods inspection!" A voice cut out, "Oh! It's you Bard."

"Morning Percy," Bard responded before this Percy asked if there was anything to declare.

"I'm cold and tired, and ready for home," Bard replied.

"There we are, all in order," Percy declared before another person interrupted, "Not so fast, consignment of empty barrels, from the Woodland realm, only, they're not empty, are they Bard? If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman, _not_ a fisherman."

Bard decided to defend himself, "That's none of your business."

Thorin continued listening to the conversation, which became quieter until the now named Alfrid spoke loudly again, "These fish are illegal, empty the barrels over the side."

People approached the barrels, and the company stilled, waiting to see if they'd be caught.

"People in this town are struggling, times are hard, food is scarce," Bard tried to persuade Alfrid.

"That's not my problem."

"And when people hear the master is dumping fish back in the lake, when the rioting starts, will it be your problem then?" Bard implored.

"Stop!" Alfrid ordered angered, "Ever the people's champion aye Bard? Protector of the common folk. You might have their favour now bargeman, but it won't last."

"Raise the gate!" Percy sounded and the boat began to move again.

"The master has his eye on you, you'd do well to remember we know where you live," Alfrid tried to threaten.

Bard decided to defend himself, "That's none of your business."

It wasn't until they were all in the lake under the houses when the realisation sunk in, they were climbing through his toilet.

As one of the last to enter, only Thorin and Fili stood behind her, and she looked down at her leg, wondering how in the valar she was to jump up on one leg.

"Here, let us help you," Thorin gave her no time to object before he was helping lift her, Fili hoisting her other side into the opening.

Cuilwen was shocked to say the least, but a blush covered her cheeks at the feel of his hands on her. She quickly clambered out of the toilet and followed the company ahead of her.

Cuilwen saw the fire, and immediately say as close as she could, drying herself out enough so she could remove her pants with ease to try not to aggravate her sound. Oin, remembering his earlier task, bustled over to Cuilwen and started working on removing the remaining arrow.

"It'll be an easy removal, but it'll hurt lass."

Cuilwen nodded her head although the healer could not see it, opting to observe the best course for removal. The elleth turned her head away, biting her lip to stop the whimper from escaping her as Oin tugged the arrow shaft out in a quick movement as the arrowhead pulled back through her flesh.

Blood began to flow faster from the hole in her thigh, Oin moving faster to dress the wound.

"It should be fine now, just take it easy," not saying any more on the matter, Oin stood before joining the rest of the company, leaving the arrowhead next to her.

Thorin walked across the room, Bard having left to find them some weapons, and sat next to Cuilwen, "How's your leg feeling now?"

"It hurts, the throbbing feels worse," came Cuilwen's reply, trying to keep her mind off of it.

"Aye," Thorin cut himself off as he picked up the arrowhead and began observing it, his mood going somber, "Oin!"

Hearing the desperation in his King's voice, Oin made a hasty retreat back to the elleth who was now joined by the leading dwarf.

Thorin bring himself to speak, and Cuilwen could see the attempted disbelief on his face before he concluded his fears with his words.

"This is a morgul arrow."

Cuilwen's mind went blank, she couldn't think. A morgul arrow? She wracked her brain, trying to think of how to treat the poison she now knew could cause her demise.

"Athelas, I need athelas," Cuilwen addressed Bard as he came back into the room.

"Athelas?" Bard questioned, evidently confused.

"Kingsfoil, I need it urgently."

"It's a weed, we feed it to the pigs," Bard supplied, he didn't know exactly who this person was, due to the hood covering her hair and shadowing her face, but, his dislike for dwarves did not obstruct him from helping a lady in need.

Bain, surprisingly, jumped up offering to go fetch the plant.

"I'll need as much as possible, I don't know how much I will need!" Cuilwen shouted as the child ran out of the house.

Kili, feeling somewhat apologetic towards her injuries turned to his brother, "It could've been me, I was ready to get out and pull that lever."

Fili looked at his brother in sympathy, "As much as I hate to say it, I'm glad it was her and not you, even though Uncle has taken a liking to her."

Kili nodded his head, lost in thought.

"I'm going to help her."

Before Fili could question his brother as to what he meant, Kili was already walking over to Cuilwen who was looking ahead, at what he did not know for he couldn't see his eyes. Thorin and Oin were to her sides. His Uncle was staring off into space, a deep frown set in his forehead. Oin however, was muttering away to himself, slowly unwrapping the dressings he had just put on.

Kili knelt down infront of the elleth, looking back over his shoulder at Thorin's heir, nodding at him to come over. Fili pushed off the wall with a sigh, wondering what his brother was up to.

Kili turned back to Cuilwen, he had heard what name her father bestowed upon her when she spoke to Thorin through his cell bars. He knew she loved her father, and even though Thranduil didn't express any love for his daughter, he knew leaving her home was hard for her.

Fili had joined him by now, kneeling next to his brother.

"Forgive us, Milady, for not introducing ourselves earlier," Kili spoke, and Cuilwen tilted her head back, the light of the fire showing her face. Kili looked towards his brother, nodding his head sharply towards the female, waiting for Fili to continue.

"Fili," The blonde spoke.

"And Kili," The stubbled dwarf continued, his smile making his older brother shake his head, suppressing a chuckle.

"At your service," They finished together.

Cuilwen noticed she was thoroughly barricaded from any outside view, pulled her hood back to her hairline, her face exposed completely.

"Cuilwen, at yours."

Kili tossed some words around his head, wanting to thank her.

"I- I-uh, wanted to say thank you, you pulled the lever that opened the gates again, I saw you get shot by that arrow. You helped us get out," Kili cursed himself mentally as he realised how ridiculous that sounded.

To his surprise Cuilwen giggled, a light, bell like sound.

"Your gratitude is appreciated, young dwarf, but I simply did what any one of you would have done sooner or later."

"You saved us, we'd have been killed if we didn't have our weapons, which you returned to us and had you not pulled that lever we'd have been trapped under that bridge as we were slaughtered," Thorin spoke, he needed her to understand how much her actions were appreciated.

"You helped me fight of orcs, even if it was a tight fit," Fili winked, thinking back to how they shared a barrel, "And you paid Bard for us to enter Laketown."

Cuilwen was shocked to say the least, but as she went to reply Bain came running back in the house.

Bain walked over to the dining room table, turning out his pockets and placing large handfuls of Athelas on the wood.

Thorin stood up, moving behind the elleth and tucking his arms under hers. Nodding to his nephews, Fili and Kili each grabbed a leg, Kili being mindful of her wound, making sure not to jostle her leg too much.

Cuilwen squeaked in surprise as they carried her over to the table, placing her on it as Oin now could get an easier view of the injury. He was not missing out on this, despite his small distrust in the elves, he could not fault them for their healing knowledge and methods.

Cuilwen thought back to before her brother taught her how to use weapons, at a young age she was eager to be just like Legolas, trying to persuade him into teaching her how to use her bow and blades. He taught her in the art of healing, in hopes that if she did become injured, she'd be able to heal herself.

' _All that waiting paid off'_ Cuilwen thought, almost astonished that she actually paid attention, albeit it was her brother instructing her.

That was her last thought before the throbbing in her leg increased ten fold before darkness consumed her.

The dwarves looked on in shock, she'd been fine just a minute ago. Oin jumped into action, checking her vitals.

"She's fine lads, looks like she just fainted, probably the blood loss catching up with her, we can wait until she wakes, she'll be able to do the rest."

* * *

Thorin waited by her side, midday had just passed as she had began to regain her colouring.

His clothes had since dried, the heat of the fire supplying warmth to his previously colder clothing. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her however, he couldn't understand how her father didn't love her, her personality was something he had never encountered, she was too kind and forgave Thranduil too easily despite how his words cut her deeply. She was loyal, he had seen the devotion her and her brother shared for one another and her beauty only added to it.

Her foot twitched, Thorin instantly taking note of it before calling Oin back over. Her leg spasmed slightly once, twice and then she shot up, her mouth open in a silent scream. Thorin was quick to react, standing behind her, holding her chest down with one hand as the other came over her mouth. As much as he hated restraining and silencing her, he couldn't afford for the company to be found out.

Cuilwen hadn't felt this kind of pain before, white hot pain burned through her leg. She felt sweaty, her wound throbbing. She tried to inhale, gasping for breath but couldn't due to the hand over her mouth.

"Shhh, just breathe, calm down, _Gajut men._ All shall be well _Athanu men._ "

Bifur had been nearby, and he definitely picked up on what Thorin said, being it the only language he could reply back in. He looked at Thorin flabbergasted, unable to form words. Trying to voice his strong dislike of his leader's choice of words towards the elleth, he watched on as Thorin hushed her, holding her tightly, calming her down and soothing her worries. He observed as Thorin's brows were creased with worry and concern, his attention solely on her and he couldn't bring himself to argue against the future King.

Instead, Bifur's shock was redirected at the tall, blonde elf that now stood inside the front door, how no one noticed him was beyond Bifur, but he continued to watch shocked as the elf walked hurriedly towards the room they were occupying. His steel blue eyes seemed to literally _glow_ with panic and worry for the elleth currently calming down within the dwarf King's embrace.

Legolas was shocked to say the least, he never thought something like this could happen, and partially blamed himself for aiding her in her escape which led to her being wounded.

"How long has she been like this?" The elf forced himself to speak.

Thorin seemed to realise he was being spoken to, and he wasn't being addressed by anyone of his company. It was an elf.

"How long has she been like this?!" The elf asked again, his patience wearing thin at seeing his sister in such a state and the lack of answers from the dwarf.

Cuilwen seemed to hear her brother, she being the only one to know who he is, and she reached her hand out towards him.

Legolas clutched his sister's hand as he finally got an answer.

"She woke not long ago, she was going to treat herself with some of the weed but fainted, she was struck by a morgul arrow as she reopened the gates at Mirkwood's borders," The brown haired dwarf spoke up from holding down Cuilwen's right ankle, preventing her from thrashing too hard.

Thorin finally took notice of the new presence and looked up, knowing who he was immediately by the uncanny resemblance between the elf and Thranduil, and how tightly Cuilwen was holding onto this man confirmed his suspicions.

Thorin felt broken, he couldn't stand to see the elleth in such a state, _his elleth_. Why, he didn't know, he hadn't felt like this ever. Not when Erebor had been taken from his people, nor when the dwarves were denied help from the elves of the Greenwood, not when his brother died, or his grandfather _or_ his father. This felt worse, and he couldn't fathom why.

The proud dwarf looked up into the eyes of his elleth's brother, his eyes _begging_ , "Please, help her, do whatever you can." _I need her_

Legolas sprung into action, asking for a bowl of water as he grabbed the kingsfoil from the table top. Ori ran over, having been the closest to the tap he swiftly handed the elf a bowl of water.

Legolas placed his hands in the water, rubbing the weed between his palms, his heart breaking as Cuilwen cries and screams of pain were muffled by Thorin's hand.

Legolas looked to the other dwarves, one holding her left leg, the other her right ankle, "Hold her down firmly."

Legolas pulled his hands from the water, coming and holding her thigh surrounding the wound down to get a closer look before looking up at his sister's face which was creased in pain.

He began chanting, his eyes closing as he began to press the athelas into the wound. Kili increasing the pressure he had on her ankle in hopes of restraining her better as she thrashed harder when the pain only increased. Oin was leaning in close, his ear trumpet right beneath Legolas, and although it was bent out of shape from the treatment it received in Goblin Town, he seemed to be soaking up every word.

Cuilwen's eyes opened, squinting against the pain she looked up at her brother, trying to stop herself from seeing two of him as he began to glow. Cuilwen's face slowly morphed into one of relief, as her brother finished the chant, proceeding to bandage it tightly. Fili and Kili slowly released their hold on her, making sure she wouldn't thrash again and hurt herself in the process. The brothers and Oin made their way towards the other on looking dwarves who stood on the far side of the room.

"That was a privilege to watch," Oin said in awe, simply basking in the fact he witnessed elven healing.

Thorin removed his hand from her mouth, her breath coming in gasps as she lazed in exhaustion. He watched as her eyes followed her brothers movements.

"Legolas," She breathed out.

He turned back to her, concern still marring his pale face, "Lie still Nary."

Cuilwen continued to speak, her tone remaining breathy, "I saw her Toron."

Legolas stiffened, almost afraid of what she'd say next.

Cuilwen however did not notice her brother's reaction to her statement.

"I saw Naneth, Toron, she looked so beautiful, just like what you said."

Legolas looked at his little sister, his eyes giving away the grief he still held in regards to their Naneth.

"She said, _Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'."_

Legolas grasped Cuilwen's hand in his own as she continued, "She told me Ada loves me."

The elf prince lost composure then, a tear slipping from his eye as he continued to listen, "Do you think Naneth would have loved me? Even though it's my fault she isn't here?"

Legolas couldn't answer and he didn't get the chance to as Cuilwen gave into her exhaustion.

Thorin sat there in shock at the words that came falling from Cuilwen's mouth, he knew his father despised her and blamed her for her mother's death but never thought she would begin to question it too.

"How did you know she needed help?" Thorin asked the ellon.

Legolas sighed, "We took an orc back to our halls and questioned him."

 _Legolas stood before his father's throne watching as one of the guards held a blade to the kneeling orc's throat whilst Thranduil circled the wretched creature._

" _Such is the nature of evil, out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. Sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So whatever was, so will it always be."_

 _The orc began to growl lowly, his eyes glowing bright in contrast of it's dead skin._

" _In time, all foul things come forth," Thranduil spoke, crossing his arms over his chest._

" _You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves, why?" The guard spoke, grasping tighter to the orcs head as it tried to move._

" _You're forgetting that pretty girl that was with them," The orc avoided the question._

 _Legolas stiffened, they had seen Nary, for no other dwarrowdam was a member of the company._

" _Flaming red hair she had beneath that cloak, thought she could hide."_

 _Thranduil looked towards his son as his figure tensed more as the orc kept speaking._

 _Legolas looked into the eyes of the orc as it continued to growl from its throat, "Stuck her with a morgul shaft, poison's in her blood, she'll be choking on it soon."_

 _The orc smirked at Legolas' reaction to his words._

" _Answer the question filth!" Legolas hissed._

 _The orc began speaking in Black Speech, fighting against the guard that held him in place and although Legolas couldn't understand him, it was enough for him to draw his own blade._

 _The guard decided to speak, decidedly having enough of it's squirming, "I would not antagonize him."_

 _Legolas ignored the guard, "You like killing things orc?"_

 _The orc growled again, his tongue licking what remained of his lips._

" _You like death?" Legolas continued, "Then let me give it to you!"_

 _Legolas stepped forward swinging his blade around the guard's sword, ready to slay the orc._

" _Enough!" Thranduil intervened as the orc hissed at Legolas, taunting him._

" _Answer the question, you have nothing to fear, tell us what you know and I will set you free."_

 _Legolas stared at his father, waiting to see where he was going with this, surely his Ada wouldn't let such filth back out into the world._

" _You had orders to kill them, why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?" The guard interrogated._

" _The dwarf runt will never be King," The orc huffed out._

" _King? There is no King under the mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare enter Erebor whilst the dragon lives," The guard baited the orc._

" _You know nothing! Your world will burn," The orc breathed out._

" _What are you talking about? Speak!" Legolas intervened, yelling when the orc only growled in reply._

" _The time has come again, my Master serves the one," Thranduil stiffened and Legolas almost scoffed, he reacts to that but simply waves off his daughter being shot by a morgul arrow?_

" _Do you understand now elfling? Death is upon you. Flames of war are upon you, " The orc spoke, his words increasing in anger as he continued before cackling._

 _Thranduil didn't turn as he unsheathed his sword, beheading the orc in one swift, fluid motion._

" _Why did you do that?" Legolas questioned, forgetting his sister for a moment, "You promised to set him free."_

" _And I did," Thranduil spoke coldly, "I freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders," Thranduil dismissed the guard as Legolas and him stood next to one another, observing the spasming body of the now dead orc._

" _There was nothing more he could tell me," His father tried to end the conversation and turned to leave._

" _That's it?" Legolas whispered, knowing his father could hear him clearly._

 _Thranduil stopped in his departure, "What do you mean to say my son?"_

" _My son?" Legolas spat the words back at his father, "You never address Cuilwen as yours, what makes me different? Why do you stand here with the knowledge that_ _ **your daughter**_ _could pass in mere hours and address me as such?!"_

 _The ElvenKing remained where he was, deciding to listen for Legolas' indulgence._

" _We are from you and Naneth, what makes her lesser? She is yours by blood, and we share the same Naneth, so tell me_ _ **Ada**_ _, why has she earned the name Morwen from you? Would Naneth have treated her the way you have treated her and continue to do so now? What if Naneth died birthing me? Would you hate me so?!" Legolas couldn't control his anger, he hated not standing up for his sister, and when he finally does so, she's on her deathbed._

 _Thranduil turned to face his heir, his face twisted in pain, "Do not speak of her as mine, she killed_ _A'maelamin_ _! If she was never born your Naneth would still be here!"_

" _How do you think Naneth would treat her? Better yet, How do you think Naneth would feel if she saw you now, saw how you treat your only daughter,_ _ **her only daughter**_ _, would she be disgusted? Terrified of what darkness her husband forced upon her elfling at such a young and innocent age?! What did you ever do to deserve Naneth? If she saw you know, she'd take me and Nary and flee for our lives!"_

 _Thranduil flinched at Legolas' words, hearing the truth ring loudly within them. For the first time since his beloved's departure from his side his eyes glazed over with tears._

 _Legolas, seeing he was finally getting through to his father continued, albeit, more quietly._

" _If I wasn't here now, you'd only have her. Cuilwen has done no wrong, she didn't decide to kill mother, what kind of child who has not witnessed nor has knowledge of killing murders their mother? You loved Cuilwen, you loved watching Naneth smile as she kicked from within her."_

 _Thranduil allowed a tear to slide down his check, reminiscing his wife smiling in joy, using her own hands to press his against her belly, where their child grew._

" _Cuilwen still loves you Ada, that unconditional love a daughter has for her father, you're the only parent she has known and how have you treated her? Branding the name Naneth gave her with literal darkness and feeding her only with words of malice, she loves you still and now she is dying."_

 _Legolas strode around his father, "I'm going to her now, to help her, and if not, make sure her last moments aren't spent concerning herself with the likes of you."_

 _Legolas walked down the path to the main doors that led to the woods._

" _Legolas?" Thranduil spoke, his voice pleading. Thranduil watched as his child turned to him, his face expressionless despite his surprise at the visibly broken ElvenKing._

" _Tell her I'm coming, but no more, for I wish to confess and apologise for all my sins to her in her presence. I have never been so wrong before and I hope you will come to realise how proud not only I am of you, but how your Naneth would be too. You raised her son, something I should've done as soon as she came into this world, and I hope you too, can forgive me."_

 _Legolas nodded turning to depart to Esgaroth, "I'll be sure to tell the master you retract your deal also."_

 _Thranduil nodded despite knowing Legolas would not see or hear his agreement._

" _Just don't let her die."_

Legolas relayed the events that led to his now current presence in Laketown to Thorin who looked livid once Legolas stopped speaking.

"As much as I hate Thranduil for not only turning his back on my people, but hurting Cuilwen so, it will be her choice to accept his apologies. Her answer is final."

Legolas nodded, finding he agreed with the dwarf King.

"You care a great deal for her even though she is the blood of your enemy," Legolas spoke, trying to understand Thorin's tender actions and words to his sister. He didn't care much for his people's dislike of dwarves, for he had no personal reason to.

Thorin was hesitant, he knew that Legolas loved his sister dearly but didn't want him to suddenly shun her like their father did, for his next words could severely hurt the strong relationship between Cuilwen and Legolas.

"S-she i-is my One," Thorin managed to get out, stumbling through his explanation.

Legolas stiffened, of all things he was anticipating, it was not this, he knew the dwarf harbored some feelings for his Nary but this took the cake, he however was happy for his sister

Thorin mistook his shock and silence as disagreement and objection to the bond Thorin shared with Cuilwen, "She cannot help it!" The dwarf was quick to rush out, "Mahal bestows it upon us dwarves, it is a gift for us, to find our One, they're our soulmates, you can't blame her for that!"

Legolas drank it all in, even though he knew this all already.

"Calm yourself, Oakenshield, this doesn't hinder my love for her, if anything, I am happy that she will be loved by another than just myself." Legolas left out his father, for it was Cuilwen's choice to accept Thranduil's love whenever he does come.

Thorin, deciding to change topics spoke again, "You know that I couldn't risk her health, but when she wakes, we will be preparing to leave, I care not for the people of Esgaroth seeing us now. The Master appears he can easily be swayed by a few pieces of gold."

Legolas nodded, he had dealings in the past with the Master of Laketown, and hated that he had to confront the man with the withdrawal of his father's earlier dealings.

His attention however was taken off the greedy Master and directed at his now waking sister.

"Toron?" Cuilwen mumbled.

"You're well now sister, Master Oakenshield will take care of you," He directed the latter part to the dwarf in warning and Thorin inclined his head, understanding the silent threat. "You will go with him to take back their home."

Legolas sighed, wondering how to break the news of their father's change of heart, deciding that even in her fragile state, she would be better of with it straight.

"Ada is coming, Nary," Legolas was quick to continue seeing the alarmed look on her face, "I'm about to go speak to the Master in regards to terminating the dealings with him and you should know that I know of what Ada intends for you. You know I wouldn't put you in harms way," Legolas soothed.

Legolas stood, deciding to take his leave, the sooner he did, the sooner he could join his sister and her now extended family in taking back their rightful home.

Legolas bent to kiss his sister's forehead whispering a short _I love you_ before departing the bargeman's home.

Thorin stood too, supporting Cuilwen as he helped her to sit.

"We leave soon, gather your weapons and packs," Thorin addressed the group of dwarves and the hobbit.

Cuilwen's eyes widened at Thorin's words, her back straightening against his front. _My weapons and pack, they're probably in the lake._

Bifur had continued to watch the scene, mixed emotions flooded through the dwarf, and being silent more often than not, he learnt to pick up on certain things pertaining to people's body language. He observed that Cuilwen stiffened at the words _weapons and packs,_ and then looked around her, noticing no weapons or her pack near her.

Bifur came to his feet, concluding that the elleth realised she had no weapons or pack herself and made his way over to Dwalin and Nori who stood against the wall where all the packs were placed.

Dwalin and Nori both watched as he picked up the pack belonging to the she-elf before walking over to where Bofur and Bombur sat near the weapons, rifling through the assorted metal and wood until he found the dual blades both sheathed in white leather that could be worn on the back and the bow that was obviously not Kili's, swinging the shiny, white quiver over his shoulder he retreated back towards the elf.

Placing her pack on a chair pulled out from the table, Bifur gently lowered her weapons to her side, noticing the intricate work on the hilts of the blades and the engravings in the quiver. Her arrow fletchings were pale blue, and if he wasn't mistaken, was pretty much the same colour as her brother's eyes.

The detailing was a dead give away that her weapons in comparison to Thorin's own blade, were much more greater in both use and worth.

Cuilwen, turned to the dwarf and shocked the whole company, "Dolzekh Menu."

Bifur grinned at the elf, nodding in turn before going and collecting his own belongings. Thorin simply shook his head in disbelief, a small smile playing at his lips as he thought of how lucky he was.

The company swiftly gathered their belongings, Cuilwen pulled on her blades before her pack went over their holdings on her back, she pulled on the hilt of a blade, making sure she could get it out with ease before adding her quiver to her right shoulder.

Bow in hand she turned to the room adjacent noticing Sigrid, Bain and Tilda were all occupied as she slipped another bag of gold coins onto the table she had been laying on.

She couldn't hear or see Bard, so she assumed he had gone out to do something, the children weren't all that phased so she decided she had no reason to worry about his absence.

Thorin led the company out into the bustling of Laketown, determined to reach his mountain before nightfall.


End file.
